As A Married Couple Does
by The Dark Knight's Revenge
Summary: After their wedding day comes the question of their wedding night together. Holmes and Russell have their fair share of reservations about taking the physical side of their relationship further...


Everyone knows the way things are with married couples. Well, hypothetically everyone knows. I knew very well what to expect between the sheets of our four-poster bed in what was now our wedding suite, formerly the master bedroom of Holmes' childhood home.

Which brought up some very interesting questions. How exactly did my husband feel taking residence for the night in the place where his parents once inhabited?

How did I feel finally taking the final step to realizing my romantic feelings towards my partner-now-husband?

"Everything all right, Russ?" Sherlock's dulcet tones said from the bathroom entrance, where my partner-now-husband seemed to have paused in shaving to notice me still sitting in front of the vanity, not one step closer to undressing than when he'd left.

"Everything's fine." I lied, fixing him in an even stare through the mirror and beginning to take my hair down. I knew he'd see right through it, but it would postpone the inevitable long enough for me to regain my confidence. My husband's head retreated back into the bathroom, and I heard the tap running. Truth be told, I thought I could use a bath as well. I should have monopolized the bathroom while I had the chance.

I was stalling. It was plain and simple. I was stalling because I didn't know what to expect having marital relations with a much older man, who had previously been my most trusted advisor and confidant. I just didn't know how to go about things. I hoped, rather, expected he had some experience in the matter. But would he be willing and able to lead the way in this situation? He'd shown hesitance when it came to me before, but there were certain things that were to be expected once the certificate was signed.

"Russell?"

I came back to myself, realizing that I had made absolutely no progress undressing besides taking down my hair and pulling off my mother's earrings. Holmes was in his dressing robe, hair wet from the bath.

"Sorry, Holmes. I don't know what's come over me. I'll be ready presently."

"No hurry, Mary. The house is ours until what time we see fit to leave it. Mycroft's bribery has ensured us so."

I returned his warm smile half-heartedly and rose to see to myself in the bathroom.

The spacious bath was still steamy from Holmes' ablutions. I began to run the tap again, filling the bathtub once more. After the soggy and hectic scramble leading to the wedding in the candlelit chapel, I felt I could use a good scrubbing to strengthen my morale. And to ensure everything was clean for what was yet to come.

"Russell?" Holmes' voice came through the door. I was still dressed, so I opened the door to him. He was holding something behind his back.

"Another, more vain wedding gift." He said, presenting me with a vial of rose oil. I accepted it, unstopping it and giving it a sniff. The scent was delicate and practical, exactly the kind of thing I would use.

Holmes held out another, flatter tub in his other hand.

"What is it?" I asked. He cleared his throat.

"It is a particular type of strained vegetable oil, used for... well, lubrication. I thought you should familiarize yourself with it during your toilette, see if you desired to use it in the future. If that is... your preference." His neck had reddened considerably, and my cheeks were the color of a tomato I was sure.

"I'll do so, thank you Holmes." I squeaked before slamming the door in his face.

Well, now I knew what turn he expected the evening to take. His pride demanded that he test the waters to see my intentions as well. He undoubtedly thought I was having second thoughts about the physical manifestation of our marriage.

The bath was full, so I shut off the tap. The room had returned to a pleasantly steamy state. I began to unbutton my wedding dress, almost sad to shrug it off. I avoided looking at my reflection in the full mirror above the adjoining sink, setting a towel aside for when I exited the bath. Then I shelled my last garments and prepared to step in the bath.

The vial of rose oil caught my eye. I poured a few drops over the surface of the steaming water and then settled in to soak. The scent of fresh roses enveloped me. Holmes had good taste, rose oil was a luxury that had likely never crossed my mind until now.

The bath was doing good work towards getting me loosened up and prepared for later's deeds. I supposed that being naked now, in here, was the first step towards being similarly naked later, out there.

The tub of lubricant caught my eye, sitting innocently nearby. What did Holmes expect me to do with it?

My cheeks flushed again as I realized what exactly he implied I do with it. Preparing myself now would undoubtedly ease the way later.

My body wasn't so ridiculously unknown to me that I couldn't derive my own pleasure by hand. I had read a number of scientific articles on the practicality of curing oneself of hysteria, god forbid women out of marriage be aroused by anything but stellar needlework...

Steeling my resolve, I unscrewed the tub, dipping a finger experimentally into the cream colored oil. It smoothed over my fingers very nicely and smelled like absolutely nothing. Thank goodness, I should have laughed heartily at Holmes should he have suggested I rub myself down with bacon grease.

I leaned back in the bath. _What the hell._ My hands travelled a familiar path, and I noticed that the lubricant held up well even in the water. It had been some time since I had been able to relieve my needs, my body responded readily beneath my fingers. A moan slipped out of my mouth before I could stop it.

"Russell?" A soft knock sounded at the door. I started, splashing water on the floor, my face coloring.

"One moment, Holmes. I'll be right out..." I said.

"Again, no hurry, Mary. Just wanted to be sure you didn't drown in the bath. I heard you cry out."

Damn the man to hell, he knew exactly what I was doing. It was hardly the first time he'd interrupted me taking myself to hand and he knew it.

"If you're so concerned, come in." I found myself replying, exasperated. Holmes coughed in embarrassment.

"I'll remain in here, Russell. Take your time."

I leaned back in the bath, thinking furiously. He hadn't taken my bait, and I didn't know if I were thankful for it or not. Now came the question of whether I could continue where I was or go out to continue something else entirely.

 _Damn you, Holmes..._

I got out of the bath and hurriedly began toweling off. I grabbed my dressing gown, which was a scanty scrap of lace gifted with (I'm sure) good intentions by Mrs. Hudson. I took a brush to my mop of hair and began knotting it back.

I emerged from the bathroom to find possibly the most unexpected outcome of the night. My husband, stretched out on the bed, already under the sheets and sound asleep.

"Well then." I muttered to myself. It would appear that his playing at giving me the lubricant was also a means of stalling. Or simply a side effect of being awake for more than two days planning the details of a grand surprise for his wife. I wasn't sure I could be annoyed.

I went into the bathroom and collected the bottle of rose oil and the tub of lubricant, stashing both in my blivet. I was resigned to a chaste night, similar to many we had spent together before. I retired the lacy negligee and put on my usual nightgown.

Since I now had the luxury, I sat in front of the fireplace and began to dry my hair. The heat of the fire was pleasant, and before I knew it, I was asleep.


End file.
